Broken Prince (The Royals #2)

I toss her Iron Man, glad she doesn’t ask why I still have one of Reed’s old workout shirts. My answer would be that it’s comfortable. I mean, it really is comfortable, but anyone with half a brain would guess I’ve kept it for other reasons.

Val slips under the covers just as Reed appears with a pill bottle. “Valium,” he says, walking through the door I’d left open.

I don’t ask why he has a prescription for it. I just shake out one pill and give it to Val.

“You two need anything else?”

“No, thanks,” I answer.

He shifts from one foot to the other and then reluctantly leaves.

Val falls asleep almost immediately, but I’m too wired to crash. I curl up next to her and just lie there for a while, until a noise in the hall captures my attention. Careful not to wake my friend, I creep across the room and crack the door open.

Sure enough, Reed is settling down outside my door.

“Go to bed,” I hiss.

He opens one eye. “I am in bed.”

“There’s no bed in the hall.”

“Don’t need one.”

“Fine.” I start to slam the door but remember Val at the last second. The door closes with a soft snick and I lean against it, forcing myself to remember how I don’t love him. How he was cruel to me. How I spent my weeks away tormented with visions of him and Brooke together and wanting to just curl up and die but instead getting up every morning to hustle and find work.

And now he’s sitting outside my door, trying to make me believe he’s changed.

I wrench open the door again and stomp out. “Why are you here?” The words come out like a plea rather than an accusation.

Reed stands up. He’s wearing a black wifebeater and track pants that ride low on his hips, and his biceps flex when he reaches for me. “You know why.”

The fire in his eyes simultaneously turns me on and fuels my anger. “Don’t touch me.”

He lets his arm drop, and I hate the disappointment that I feel. Get it together, Ella!

“Fine,” he rasps. “You do the touching.”

My eyes widen as he starts tearing off his clothes right there in the hall.

Naked Reed with his rippling chest and his rock hard thighs and that thin line of hair that arrows down to his waistband? No. No. No!

“Put this back on,” I order, throwing his shirt back in his face.

“No.” He snatches it out of the air and tosses it aside.

And then he pulls me against him.

Every inch of him is hard. Every inch.

I expect another hot, frantic make-out, like the one in Savannah’s driveway, but Reed surprises me. His touch is gentle as he skims his fingers over my cheek. His breathing thins, and then those fingers tenderly slide through my hair, angling my head perfectly for his kiss.

It’s the sweetest kiss we’ve ever shared. Slow. Soft. The feather-light brush of his lips, the tentative swirl of his tongue. I can feel him shaking, but I don’t know if it’s because he’s nervous or excited or both.

I scream at myself to move, to push him away. If I call for help, maybe he’ll stop kissing me like I’m the single-most important person in his world.

But I don’t do any of that. My stupid body melts against his. My stupid lips part for him.

Take what he can give you and then send him on his way, a little voice whispers. Use him.

Isn’t that a convenient excuse?

But in the haze of my growing need, I give in a tiny inch and Reed takes full advantage, hoisting me up and carrying me to his bedroom. He kicks his door shut behind him and lowers me onto his mattress.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and I open my eyes to find that his are shining with emotion. “Tell me you missed me too.”

I swallow the words before they can leave my mouth.

The disappointment on his face fades quickly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. You can show me.”

His hand leaves my hair and moves between my legs, and when his fingers curl up, I can’t stop from rocking my hips. He grunts in pleasure against my mouth and rubs that aching spot, making me whimper.

I hate that he still has power over me. I hate that I no longer feel in control over anything. I hate that I’m here. That my mom is gone. That I fell for Reed in the first place.

Tears start trickling out, sliding down to where our mouths meet.

“Are you crying?” Reed abruptly breaks away from me.

I can’t stop myself from gripping him tighter. It’s like some part of me is saying that I’ve had too much loss in my life so I might as well hang on to the scraps Reed Royal is willing to give me.

But I can’t stop crying either. The tears fall, fast and furious. Reed swipes them away, but they keep coming.

“Please stop crying, baby. Please,” he begs.

I try. I hold my breath, but the unshed tears wrack my body with a wave of shudders.

“I’m done. I won’t touch you again. Promise. Ella, you’re killing me.”

He pushes my head against his chest and strokes my hair. It takes more time than I’d like to admit to get myself under control, and all the while Reed is apologizing and repeating his promise to keep away.

This is what I want, I tell myself, but his vow to not touch me again only makes me cry harder.